The Experiment
by jeslylo
Summary: Just another case, or is it? Brennan and Booth try to catch a psychopathic serial killer, but he gets to Brennan first! B/B. Rated M for scenes of explicit nature. Characters belong to Fox, not me. I own the plot and the bad guys.
1. Prologue

Her eyes snapped open, a pounding migraine welcoming her to the real world. It would have been worse, she knew, if she had not been lying on her back. Her brain felt sluggish, but when she saw nothing but blackness, there was a fleeting moment where she feared she had gone blind. It was only when faint outlines began to appear above her that she realized it was only the darkness of her surroundings. Her eyes were functioning as normal. The faint outlines became more distinctive as her eyes adjusted, and she could make out ceiling tiles, and some fluorescent tubing. She started to turn her head to the left, wanting to see more of the place she was in, when she realized her head was immobile. What was holding it in place, she couldn't be sure - some type of brace, maybe, or something as simple and crude as two bars fastened firmly to her temples. The only thing she knew was that she could not move her head. She tried to reach up and ascertain what was there, but realized with a pang of fear that she could not move her hand, either. Both of them, her right and left, were separately handcuffed to the table she was lying on. Her breath hitched for a moment before quickening, her heart pounding under her chest. Hoping beyond hope that she could move some part of her body, she attempted to kick out her foot - which, she noticed, was bare. Both it and the other one were likewise restrained by similar handcuffs.

There was a sound behind her - the soft _click _of a lock, the slight creak of a door being opened - and she struggled to move, to see what was going on. A light bathed the room she was in, nearly blinding her. She shut her eyes, keeping them tightly closed against the sudden change in lighting. Slowly but surely, she lifted her eyelids, trying to force her eyes to become accustomed to the brightness. It took a few tries, but eventually she was able to keep her eyes open, hoping to see anything else that might give away her location. There were more ceiling tiles, an endless sky of them. Great. There was nothing in her line of vision that could help her.

"Ah, you're awake," murmured an unfamiliar voice - a male by the sound of it - to her right, sounding pleased. "Excellent." A pause, and then some clinking sounds, before the voice added, "I was hoping you'd be conscious by now. You were under a bit longer than I anticipated. But no matter. You're awake now, and that's all that counts."

At last, she found her voice. "W-Who are you? Where am I? Why am I restrained like this?" She did not ask the questions in rapid succession; on the contrary, she kept her pace slow, forming the words purposefully and speaking with perfect clarity. She was frightened, yes, but she wanted answers.

The person to her right sighed, quite obviously. "So many questions. Why must you always ask questions? You are a genius, why don't you figure out the answers?" Another pause. She frowned to herself, wondering what madness this was. The man then chuckled, apparently pleased with himself. "My name is of no concern to you. Not yet, anyways. You are here, a vague answer to a pointless question. Finally, you are restrained because I do not wish for you to move freely, a concept very simple to understand… especially for someone such as yourself. Satisfied?"

"No, not really."

"Hm, pity." Another pause, and more noises emanating from the person's direction. She felt something touch the ball of her right foot, and it jerked involuntarily. The man chuckled again. The same thing that touched her foot slowly traced its way around the arch, up her ankle, up her inner calf and inner thigh (at this point, she realized with both embarrassment and horror that she only had her simple, white cotton underwear and brassiere on), then up across her right hip, continuing along her flat stomach, up the middle of her chest, across her clavicle, snaking its way up the side of her neck and face, finally resting on the tip of her head. It took her a moment to realize it was a single finger. "Mmmm. You have been selected to participate in an experiment on physiology. To put it simply, you will be tested on several aspects of the human body, though more specifically your endurance." She blinked, frowning again. What sort of experiment on endurance was this, where the participant could not move?

"I see you still don't understand. Well, that is most unfortunate; I had such high expectations of your intelligence, and now they have lowered significantly. To put it more simply…" A face loomed above her, black eyes staring demonically into her own blue ones. "…I want to see how long you can endure the pain before your body shuts itself down." She had barely begun to register the man's face - his dark eyes, his tanned complexion, his sandy-blonde hair - let alone his statement, when something touched the skin on her right shoulder. Instantly, it felt as if her arm had been lit on fire. Her mouth opened to scream - another involuntary action - before she caught herself and willed against it, forcing her mouth to clamp shut against the pain. This lasted a mere second, but it felt longer - much, much longer. The pain stopped, and her arm fell limp at her side, numb.

The man chuckled again, but this time his voice was full of malice. It frightened her even more than it did before. "Yes, we shall both see how long it takes for you to break, for your body to just give up and shut down. This is my experiment, and you… you are my guinea pig, Dr. Brennan."


	2. The Victim

_48 hours earlier…_

"Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth! Over here!"

Temperance Brennan looked up, nodding to the police officer that had called her name. She glanced at Booth as well, and he nodded before gesturing for her to take the lead. "Yeah, you gotta love Texas. Everything's bigger here." He smiled to the back of Brennan's head. She turned to look at him, her brows furrowed slightly. "Actually, everything is about the same size. It's just the amount of flat land that makes everyone think it's bigger."

"Bones, it's just an expression."

"Well it's a poor one. Everything can't be bigger in one place, it's just not possible."

Booth rolled his eyes and shut his mouth. The two continued walking towards the police officer, eyeing the surroundings as they did so. They had been called from the Jeffersonian to this sizeable warehouse, which was almost entirely empty, save the now few dozen cops, coroners, CSI, and the lone victim the officer was standing above. The walls and floor of the warehouse were bare, and Brennan's boots echoed faintly with each step she took. She and Booth finally approached both the officer and the victim, each of them already taking in the scene before them. A partially decomposed body was lying on what looked like an operating table, its wrists and ankles tied to it with rope. There was still some skin, hair, and clothing on the victim, things Booth would definitely be sending to Cam and Hodgins at the Jeffersonian. For now, though, he stood over his partner, eyeing the body while listening to Brennan assess the situation.

"Female," noticed Brennan, eyeing the remains. "Mid- to late-twenties." The police officer blinked, impressed. "How does she know that?" he asked Booth. The FBI agent merely grinned. "Dr. Brennan knows her bones." He looked back over at Brennan, who was busy looking the victim over, before addressing the officer again. "Who did you say found the body?"

"Two kids, male and female. They said they were 'taking a shortcut' through the warehouse on their way home, because walking around it would cost them another ten minutes." The officer inclined his head in the direction of the kids, and Booth's eyes followed. Two teenagers, maybe seventeen or eighteen, were speaking to another officer. The boy had his arm wrapped around the girl's shoulders protectively, and the girl was leaning into him, shaking her head absently. Both looked scared as hell. Booth quirked his eyebrow, his attention piqued.

The scientist paused while Booth and the officer talked, squinting at the victim's right arm, then pulled out her mini flashlight from one of her pockets, shining its light on the area. "There is damage to the upper right humerus," she reported, tilting her head to get a better look. "Burn marks, by the look of it." Booth nodded as Brennan looked at the rest of the body. "There is similar damage to the metacarpal bone, sternum, and femur - the hand, chest, and thigh," she added, for Booth's sake. "I'll need Cam to remove the flesh for me to get a better look at the bones, to be sure." Booth nodded again, clapping his hands together. "So, it's a murder then?" Brennan looked up from her crouched position, nodding. "Yes, it's a murder."

* * *

"Alright, so what do we got?" Booth lifted his hand and swiped his ID through the scanner in the Jeffersonian, jumping up the steps towards Cam, who was busy examining the skin on the victim. She looked up, holding her gloved hands up and away from the body. She took a breath and exhaled slowly. "Based on dental records, we have identified the victim as Emilee Haning. Twenty-eight, single but dating, no children, works as a waitress," she answered, reading off a list from the computer screen near her. "She was declared missing two days ago. Also, Dr. Brennan was right about the burns. The skin surrounding the areas she pointed out show significant burn damage."

"So someone put matches against her skin?"

Cam shook her head. "No. These burns are intense, but focused. A match would spread, and that's if it actually caught the skin on fire. No, this is an electrical burn. Maybe a stun gun, or a cattle prod. Though, the pattern is irregular for either one of those weapons." The woman tilted her head, curious. "Other than that, I'm done with the skin. Dr. Brennan can have the bones." Suddenly, a catchy tune erupted from Dr. Saroyan's pocket. She jumped slightly, quickly removing her gloves and pulling out a cell phone from her pocket. Smiling, she flipped it open. "Hello?" A pause. "Yes, yes, of course." Another pause, and Cam's smile widened. "Tonight sounds wonderful. Seven o'clock? Yes, I'll be ready. See you then." She flipped the phone shut, still smiling. Booth quirked an eyebrow. "Date tonight?" Cam glanced over at him, grinning. "As it happens, yes. I do have a date tonight."

"Who?"

"No one you know."

"What's his name?"

Cam turned to face Booth, looking him straight in the eye. She noticed his hands had closed into fists that rested on his hips. "Seeley…" They held gazes for a brief moment, then Booth sighed, dropping his hands. "Fine. Fine. Just… be careful, okay?" He looked at her again, his face serious. Cam nodded, smiling again. "I always am, Booth."

"Always what?" Hodgins walked up to the two of them, his bright blue eyes curious. He looked from Cam to Booth, then back to Cam. She merely smiled. "What did you find?" Hodgins waited, the edges of his lips twitching in an effort to resist a knowing grin, before continuing with his report. "Nothing out of the ordinary. The particulates in the victim's clothing all originate from the area where she was found. Did you find anything?" Cam nodded, telling Hodgins what she had told Booth. "Also, I'm waiting on the tox-screen, which should be in soon." Hodgins nodded. "Alright. Well I'll go see Angela, see what… she… uh, yeah…" He looked between Cam and Booth once more, then left, grinning slightly to himself.

Booth groaned, shutting his eyes. Cam shook her head, chuckling to herself. "Get over it, Booth," she murmured, patting him on the shoulder as she walked away. He sighed, pulling out his cell phone and dialing Brennan's cell.

"_Hello?"_

"Yeah, Bones? It's Booth. Our victim is Emilee Haning. Twenty-eight, worked as a waitress, went missing two days ago. Cam is done with the skin, waiting on the tox-screen. Hodgins didn't find anything out of the ordinary in the dirt, other than what was normal for the area."

"_Okay, excellent. I'll be at the lab in a few minutes."_

"Yeah, so where are you?"

"_I'm… leaving a class."_

"Oh, like one of your lectures or something?"

"_Uh, no… well, if you must know, I'm leaving a - a yoga class."_

"Yoga? I never knew you liked yoga."

"_I never took classes before, but an opportunity arose and I took it. It's actually quite relaxing, and the positions are somewhat accurate in relieving stress and tension."_

"_Yeah, okay Bones, just get here as soon as you can." Booth flipped his phone shut, shaking his head. "…yoga…" He tilted his head, an image entering his mind. A grin spread across his face, before quickly disappearing as he looked around, wondering if anyone was watching. He cleared his throat, straightening his tie. "Right… the, um, the case…" Yoga. When did Bones ever consider yoga?_


	3. The Crisis

When Brennan arrived at the Jeffersonian, she found the body already stripped of its skin and its bones cleaned. She blinked, unaware that she gave any such direction. Booth had just told her that the body was ready to be de-fleshed. Who else could have--

"Ah, Dr. Brennan. I've stripped the body for you, after Dr. Saroyan declared her work finished." Brennan turned her head to see Vincent Nigel-Murray, who had just approached, his hands clasped behind his back. "I gave no such instruction, Mr. Nigel-Murray," stated Brennan, her eyes already roaming the bones displayed on the table before her. "However, thank you for taking the initiative," she added, not looking up. The lab assistant's lip twitched in a small smile, but he said nothing. Instead, he waited for Dr. Brennan to begin her analysis of the skeleton.

"There are burn marks to the metacarpal bone, sternum, femur, and upper right humerus, as I had noticed when the body was found. There are some markings on the tibia," she added, pulling around the magnifying glass to the specified area. Brennan stepped away from the body and pointed towards the screen so that Vincent could see. "Try and see if you can find a weapon - start with knives. Possibly a stab wound." Vincent nodded, and moved around to the base of the skeleton, pointing to the feet. "There's an entry wound on the underside of the lateral cuneiform, quite a small one at that." Brennan gestured for him to move the magnifying glass around to the foot, and he did so quickly. Temperance tilted her head, her bright blue eyes staring curiously at the screen. "Did you know," began Vincent, looking up at the screen as well, "that in Ancient Rome, they interrogated people by dipping their feet in a salty solution and then allowing a goat to lick the solution off, and that by the end of the interrogation, it would create a painful sensation?" Brennan turned her head to look at the man, her mouth slightly agape. "No, Mr. Nigel-Murray. Please focus on the bones and not on irrelevant facts."

Vincent closed his mouth, nodding, and looked back down at the bones. Though, he was temporarily saved when Angela approached the two of them. "Okay, so Cam found a piece of paper in the victim's clothing, but it was too damaged to really see anything. I just ran it through reconstruction, and I've got a name and a number. 'Michael' is the name - I was only able to get a first name; the last name was too smeared - and the number is '308'. I'm not sure what it means, but that's all I have right now." She paused, looking at Brennan and then at the skeleton. "I'm glad all that flesh is gone… gave me the creeps."

Brennan's eyes darted towards her best friend. "Thank you, Angela. Did Cam say if the tox-screen was done yet?" Her friend shrugged, shaking her head. "No, I haven't talked to her. Hodgins may know, though, if he's done with his bugs and dirt." Brennan sighed, moving back to the skeleton. She tilted her head, her eyes scanning over the bones once more. They narrowed as they fell on the skull. Brennan moved around to get a better look, maneuvering the magnifying glass above the bone. "There's a hairline fracture across the temporal bone," she observed, squinting her eyes. Vincent moved around to look at the wound, his mind buzzing as to what could have caused it. Angela peered over at Brennan, but said nothing. She dealt with faces, not bones. Vincent spoke up, tilting his head slightly. "I also noticed scraping along the metacarpals and metatarsals," he said, pointing to the finger and toe bones of the skeleton. "The pattern is irregular, no uniform spacing between the edges." Brennan's eyes darted to the bones, her head tilting once more. "Try and find what could have caused those markings," she replied to him, her bright blue eyes narrowing at the scrapings.

She picked up the skull and turned it in her hands, peering at the bone carefully. "There is a small indention on the occipital bone," she observed, "as well as chipping along the mandible. Angela, I need a facial reconstruction please." Angela stepped forward and held out her hands, her chocolate brown eyes already searching the face of the skull as Brennan handed it over to her. She nodded and turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, sweetie? Someone called for you before you got here."

Brennan looked up, her eyebrows furrowing. "Who?"

"He didn't leave a name, strangely, but he said it was urgent. Sounded really weird, too. But I just wanted to let you know, in case he calls again." Angela made a face, shrugged, and left.

Brennan frowned, wondering why someone would call for her and then not leave a name or number for her. Very weird, indeed.

"Bones!" Brennan looked to the right of where Angela had just been to see Booth bounding towards the small room, clad in his usual FBI uniform. "I just sent Angela to do a facial reconstruction--"

"Yeah, never mind that now, Bones. Right now we have a crisis." He looked past Bones, toward Vincent, and shooed him away. He nodded and left quickly.

"What is it?" asked Brennan, her brows furrowing.

"Just come with me, I'll explain on the way."

Brennan frowned, but followed Booth out of the Jeffersonian and to his car. He slid into the driver's seat while she slid into the passenger side, her right hand automatically reaching up to grab the seatbelt. "What is it, Booth?" she asked again, her annoyance starting to show. Brennan did not like being kept in the dark. Booth didn't answer, though, until they had left the parking lot and were on the main road. "We found the guy that called your office, the guy that Angela talked to but didn't get a name from."

The frown deepened, but this time due to irritation. "You call this a _crisis_?" she replied, shaking her head. "Booth, I should be working on the case, not going with you to find some man that I don't even know!" She looked over at him, her face clearly showing her annoyance. Booth shook his head. "You don't understand, Bones, this is serious. He's at your house now."

Temperance blinked, but her frown stayed in place. This was just perfect. "So what," she said, flicking her hand upward, "is that where we're going? To arrest him or something?" Booth nodded. "Yeah, at least for breaking-and-entering. You did lock your doors and windows, right?" She nodded, resting her forehead on the palm of her hand. "Right," continued Booth, turning left at the light, "so now we can arrest him and find out what the hell he wants."

A little while later, the two arrived at Brennan's house to find the door ajar and the lights off. Booth immediately pulled out his gun, signaling to Temperance to remain at the door and to stay quiet. He nudged the door open more with his foot, keeping the gun close to him. If Brennan hadn't been full of adrenaline, she probably would have been wondering how Booth had found out who the man was when he didn't leave his name or number, and probably didn't stay on the phone long enough to even begin a trace. She might have been wondering how Booth knew the man was at her house. But the scientist knew that she could trust Booth and his methods of obtaining information. Past experience granted her that, at the very least.

Booth disappeared from Brennan's vision as he ventured into the dark house, leaving her to wait at the door. She clenched her jaw, wondering what could be taking so long, before finally ignoring Booth's instructions and entering her house. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and she briefly debated with herself about turning the lights on when suddenly they turned themselves on. Not a split second later, she found herself surrounded by people, all of them shouting, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Brennan jumped, her hand darting up to her chest. What the hell? Booth approached her, grinning ear to ear. "Hey, happy birthday, Bones!" She frowned, not understanding. "But… what about the man?" Booth shook his head, laughing. "That was me, calling Angela and telling her to tell you what she did. You should thank her for telling everyone that it was your birthday." Brennan blinked, then understood. It was a surprise party. Of course. The story of the man was all a ruse, done in order to get her to leave the victim and go to her house. She allowed herself a small smile as she looked at all who had shown up. Angela, Hodgins, Booth, Cam, Mr. Nigel-Murray, and several other Jeffersonian employees and fellow scientists - all of them smiling and laughing. Booth wrapped his left hand around Brennan's waist and led her to the kitchen, where it was much quieter. He pointed to the kitchen table, which was covered in presents.

Temperance smiled more, her hand covering her mouth. "Really," she said quietly to Booth, looking up at him, "you didn't have to do this. I didn't want any presents or a party."

Booth shook his head. "Bones, you didn't tell anyone it was your birthday. If you did, and if Angela hadn't told us earlier, we would be doing something very differently. But, since you were being you and only thinking of the case, here we are." He winked, reaching out to grab a small box atop the huge pile of presents. He handed it to her, his eyes sparkling. "So I say again, happy birthday Temperance." He held her gaze for a moment longer before gesturing for her to open the small box. Brennan sighed, smiling, and pulled off the wrapping paper. She opened the box and gasped. It was a beautiful necklace, the chain sterling silver and the ornament a small silver rose with a single garnet in the center. She was silent as Booth took the necklace in his hands and fastened it around her neck. Tears formed at the corner of Brennan's eyes as she spoke quietly, a simple "Thank you" escaping her lips.

Booth grinned, his eyes still sparkling as he looked at her. The two stood there, smiling as they looked into each other's eyes. They leaned in closer, caught in the moment, only to be interrupted by Cam, Angela, and Hodgins walking into the kitchen. Booth and Brennan backed away, looking at the trio. They stopped, each of their faces wide with surprise. "Uuuuhhh… we'll just, um, we'll just--" began Hodgins, but Angela rolled her eyes and pushed him out of the kitchen. She smiled at Booth and Brennan, and pulled Cam out with her. They were alone once more, but the moment was gone. Booth smiled again as he took Brennan's hand and pulled her out of the kitchen and back to the crowd, where everyone joined in wishing her another happy birthday.

Outside, a hooded figure peered in the window, watching everyone interact. The figure focused in on Brennan as she blew out the candles on the cake. They stayed there for a moment before disappearing into the darkness, unseen by the happy and carefree people inside.

* * *

Author's note: I don't know when Brennan's birthday is, so I just picked January because garnet is my favorite gemstone. And sorry for the wait... my muse went on vacation. R&R!


End file.
